Wild Magic
by Nakosha
Summary: The comedy and tragedy of the lives and deaths of Nimue d'Angelis and Sirius Black. *Marauder-era fun!*
1. Prologue: Reunion

Prologue

Stunned and helpless, Sirius Black fell through the veil.

When he emerged from the other side, he was no longer in the Department of Mysteries, nor, indeed, anywhere at all. But he could move, and he did so without pausing to examine his surroundings. Only a moment ago, he had been locked in a duel with his cousin, Bellatrix, and now she and all the others were gone.

"HARRY!" he bellowed hoarsely, getting to his feet. "Harry!" His voice was strangely flat, as though he stood in a soundproof room. He looked wildly around him, but could only see a vast plane of whiteness stretching endlessly away in all directions. Where was he? He had to get to the others, and quickly. His wand was missing, too. He must have dropped it…. No matter, he would fight with his bare hands, if it came to it. He chose a direction and began to run, and as he did, he spotted a tall woman with dark hair in the distance. She was walking toward him.

"BELLATRIX! What have you done with—?" he stopped abruptly in front of her, his mouth slightly open, as he realized that it wasn't his cousin. Her bearing was much less regal, but more elegant. Her long hair was a warm, rich honey-chestnut, not black, and her eyes…he had only ever known two people to have eyes like that, amber-brown with faint rings of gold. He felt his legs give way beneath him.

"Nimue…" he croaked. "This can't be real."

"It's real," Nimue said, taking his hands in hers and kneeling. "Sirius, there's no easy way to tell you this...."

"I've…I've _died_?" Sirius shook his head, trying in vain to clear it. "But—Harry—the others—they're in danger! I've got to help them!"

"Albus Dumbledore is with them now. He'll take care of them. Please understand, you can't go back."

Sirius was silent. As strange as it seemed, it was impossible to deny that she was right, though he had no idea how he knew it. It was as if his very being had realized it. This was it. He had died, and his soul had gone—somewhere. And Nimue was here. After all the years of agony and torment, she was right in front of him, touching him, talking to him. "Are you really here?" he asked tentatively, fearing her answer.

She smiled and drew him into her arms. "I'm as real as this," she said, her voice cracking. "I've been waiting for you, Sirius."

He gave a low moan of relief, squeezing her tightly and stroking her hair. "When I was in Azkaban, with the dementors, they made me relive the day I lost you…over and over." He leaned back, holding her at arm's length so he could look at her. "Nimue, what happened? I never understood…."

"It's a long story, and a difficult one," she replied. "But as we literally have eternity, I can show you, if you like. You can see it as it happened through my eyes."

"I want to know," Sirius said firmly.

"Then close your eyes, and I'll show you how it all began…."


	2. Spell Damage

Chapter One

Spell Damage

I sat alone in the hall outside the Janus Thickey ward of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, feeling as though I had turned to stone. Indeed, anyone passing me might have thought I had been Petrified. My face was pale and I sat absolutely still, my hands planted firmly on my knees. It seemed to me that only my heart retained the power of movement, and it did so relentlessly, pounding in time with my thoughts.

_She's gone._

_ Let go._

_ She's gone._

The door opened, and a kind-faced Healer leaned out, spotted me, and moved out into the corridor. "She's sleeping, now," she said gently. "You can come in, dear."

I nodded numbly and followed her to my mother's bed. My father was standing with one hand on my 11-year-old brother, Samson's, shoulder. Sam walked soundlessly to me and put his arms around me. In the corner, our other brother, Solomon, leaned against the wall with his arms crossed tightly. He was my twin, but though he shared my straight chestnut hair, amber-brown eyes, and long, lean build, his handsome features were contorted with grief and anger.

Dad was as stony-faced as I. He beckoned to me, and I released Sam and stood between the two of them, watching Mother sleep. She was as radiant in her pale green dressing gown as she had ever been in her finest robes. Her hair was tied back in a long braid, but a few golden tendrils had escaped and these brushed her delicate face. I gazed at her as one might a sleeping tiger, with a mixture of awe and fear, and also with a kind of aching hunger…hunger for the person Titania d'Angelis had once been, before the accident. I noticed with a jolt that her wrists were bound at her sides by thick restraints.

"Did they have to—do they think she'll still be—?" I whispered, the question hanging in the air.

"Just a precaution," Dad muttered. "They confiscated her wand, but she's a danger to herself."

"But they can't keep it," Sam said timidly. "We should take it home…so she can have it back, you know, when she gets better."

"She won't get better," Sol snapped from behind us. "They can't put her right, not here. If things keep on the way they have been, she's never coming home."

"_Solomon_!" Dad hissed, but he didn't correct him, and Sam looked from his father to me, disbelief etched across his face. I wanted very much to reassure him, but I couldn't be sure myself that Sol was wrong. I took Sam's hand and gave it a squeeze.

"The Healers are doing everything they can for her, Sam," I said, my voice unusually steady, despite the tightness in my chest. I shot a meaningful look toward my father. "We can ask to keep her wand safe for her. Can't we, Dad?"

"Of course," he replied mechanically, not taking his eyes off his wife.

We stood there for a long time without saying anything more. Beyond our curtained-off area, the Healer was trying to get an old warlock to eat.

"Just a bite, Mr. Gambol," she crooned softly. "It's your favorite."

"No, Martha, I can't be bothered right now. I've got to speak with the Minister. He's got to listen to me. The witch behind the curtains…. She's algebra, she's algebra…."

"Don't worry about Mrs. D'Angelis, she's sleeping. Have some pudding, won't you? And then we'll see about getting an appointment with the Minister. How does that sound?"

"Piddles…pudding…puddles and poodles."

A few minutes later, the Healer pulled the curtains back and informed us that visiting hours were nearly over. I tilted my head to the old man, who was now using his steak and kidney pudding to draw strange symbols on his tray with his fingers. "Do you know why he talks about her?"

"The poor dear," the Healer answered solemnly, shaking her head. "We have no idea what happened to him, and he's got no living relatives to visit him. He becomes dreadfully agitated whenever people come in here to visit the other patients. He seems to think I'm his late wife," she added sadly. "He's terribly lonely. Been here for almost sixteen years, now."

"I'm sorry to hear that," I said, and I truly was. An existence like that was hardly worth living. I felt Sam shift next to me and knew what he was thinking. Was our mother going to end up like Mr. Gambol, old and alone in the permanent care ward of a hospital? A stinging rose in my throat, and I swallowed hard. _Get a grip_, I told myself firmly. _For Sam's sake._

At that moment, however, Mr. Gambol looked over and spotted us. He froze, his fingers dripping pudding all over his front, and his eyes filled with tears. "Noooo!" he wailed, knocking his tray to the floor with a clatter. "It's not _fair_! She doesn't deserve it! It should be me! It should have been _me_!"

"Mr. Gambol, please!" the Healer gasped, but it was too late. My mother opened her eyes. While the Healer struggled to calm Mr. Gambol, Mother surveyed us all groggily. For several seconds, it seemed as though she didn't recognize us, but then she saw me. Immediately, she bolted upright in her bed, straining and twisting against her restraints, her eyes rolling wildly.

"_Nimue_! _NIM-OO-WAAAAY!"_ she cried hoarsely as I stumbled backward in shock. "PLEASE! It's inside us! We have to get it out, do you understand?! We have to die…. We have to kill each other! We're the only ones who can! _Please,_ Nimue! Please don't go! No! NO! NOOOO!"

I woke, sweating, in my bedroom at Greyhaven, on Avalon. A breeze from the open window rustled the sheer white curtains and mingled with the whisper of the screams that still lingered in my ears. Rolling out of bed, I went to the window and looked out, breathing the cool sea air. Greyhaven was a desolate place. It was the only house on Avalon, built by my ancestors, and it stood like a lonely sentinel in white stone while all around it the pebbly shore stretched away into nothing. There were beautiful meadows, but they couldn't be seen from my window. So I looked out at the slate-grey ocean, thinking of my mother.

It had been six months since that horrible day, and it was clearer than ever to all of us that Titania d'Angelis was never coming home. All the time, our father was rapidly growing more and more withdrawn, more tired, older. Because of this, and perhaps in acceptance of their fate, he had spoken with the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry about transferring us from homeschooling to public school. The Headmaster had agreed and presented his condolences.

Ordinarily, I might have felt some anxiety about entering such a new and strange world, but I was now more desperate than ever to be out of Greyhaven, away from Avalon and my mother's ghostly memories, and, secretly, from the guilty knowledge that I had brought it all down upon us.


	3. The Hogwarts Express

Chapter Two

The Hogwarts Express

The next two weeks were a blur. I would later only vaguely remember buying robes and spellbooks from Diagon Alley, but my first sight of the scarlet Hogwarts Express would stay with me for the rest of my days. Platform 9 ¾ was crowded with laughing, shouting, or, in some cases, crying families. I thought that I had never been so excited in all my life, surrounded by people my own age for the first time I could remember. I watched a round-faced boy running to catch up with his sisters, a tall, pretty black girl reaching into a basket to pet a sleek white cat, and a group of giggling girls who were passing around a photograph. They walked by a tiny girl with ringlets who was being hugged tightly by her mother, and Sam stiffened slightly. He was carrying our mother's wand, having refused to get one of his own until she was well.

"Someone's got to keep it in good condition for her," he had said stubbornly.

The train's whistle sounded, and Dad glanced anxiously at the clock over head. "You'd better get on, now," he said, helping us with our trunks. "Be good. Just study hard and do as your instructors tell you. Everything is all fixed with the headmaster, and the Prefects have been informed, so they'll guide you."

"We'll write to you, Dad," I said, hugging him. He returned the embrace half-heartedly with one arm, and stepped away, back onto the platform. We watched him getting smaller and smaller as the train picked up speed, until he was gone.

There were no empty compartments, and so we were forced to separate. Sam joined the girl with ringlets they had seen on the platform and two other first years, looking both terrified and exhilarated. Sol disappeared when I wasn't looking, which left me alone—no, not _really_ alone. All around me, people were running around the aisle, ducking into compartments to join their friends or leaning out of them to call out to each other. Well, I thought, steeling myself, if I was going to make friends, I would simply have to pick a compartment and hope for the best. There was nothing else for it.

Conscious of the fact that people were starting to realize that they had never seen me before and were now staring at me, I moved down the aisle. Suddenly, the compartment door behind me slid open with a bang and a red-haired girl nearly knocked me down on her way out.

"I said no! I don't want to talk about it, Sev! Oh—sorry," she said, embarrassed.

"It's all right," I replied with an embarrassed smile. I always smile a lot when I'm nervous; I imagine I must have looked positively loony. "I should probably have found a place to sit by now, shouldn't I?"

The girl was about to reply when a boy with sallow skin and greasy black hair stormed out of the compartment she had just exited. The girl stared after him, looking upset. She had pretty green eyes and a badge bearing the letter P was pinned to her chest.

"I'm sorry," I began awkwardly, "but are you a Prefect?"

The red-haired girl gave a small start and turned to face me. "Oh, yes, you must be Nimue d'Angelis! I'm Lily Evans. I'm a Gryffindor prefect."

"Nice to meet you," I said, amazed at my luck in finding a Prefect so easily on the crowded train. "Er…who was that?" I asked, for lack of anything else to talk about.

Lily's eyes narrowed slightly. "Severus Snape, a Slytherin. We used to be friends. Here, you can sit with me. The other Prefects are going to start patrolling the aisles, and I'm sure they'll find your brothers and talk to them, too." She followed me into the compartment and shut it behind us, blocking out the noise from the corridor.

I sat facing Lily, feeling very nervous. I was beginning to realize just how sheltered I had been, learning magic at home from my parents. I had never had any friends, had never even held a proper conversation with a girl my own age. What did teenage girls talk about?

Fortunately, Lily started talking almost immediately. "So…you took the O.W.L. last year at home, so you'll be starting in the sixth year. I'm a sixth year, too." She leaned forward, as though she had been waiting for this moment. "Did you really get Outstandings on all of your O.W.L.s?"

Taken aback, I laughed. "Well…yeah, but I didn't really have much to do, you know, besides studying and playing Quidditch with my brothers. I read some books that mentioned Hogwarts," I added eagerly. "What's it like? Are there really _ghosts_ there?"

And Lily launched into a description of the four Houses and their ghosts, the Great Hall and the feast we would enjoy when we arrived, the Inter-House Championship and Quidditch games, her favorite classes and teachers, and the Forbidden Forest on the grounds. We carried on like this for a long time, until an old wizard came round with a cart of sweets. We bought some of everything, and as we sat sharing a box of Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans, the sallow-faced boy, Severus, stalked past the window of our compartment again. He shot us an ugly look and then he was gone. The yellow bean Lily had been holding slipped from her fingers.

I offered her a bean to replace the one she had dropped. "That was probably for the best. I wouldn't put it past them to make a urine-flavored one."

Lily snorted with laughter and popped the new red bean into her mouth. She pulled a face. "_Blech_, I think this one is hot pepper." She paused for a moment and then sighed heavily, looking at the door. "Honestly, I wish he would just leave me alone."

Frowning, I followed her gaze and considered her words. "What happened with you two? You said you used to be friends."

"_Best_ friends," Lily replied darkly. "Since we were young. He's really very smart, and we've known each other for a long time. But he started running with a bad lot, and I can't stand the sorts of things he's been getting up to with them. We had a falling-out last year."

"I'm sorry," I said gently. I wished I had more to say, but I had no real experience in social matters. Lily smiled sadly.

"It's nothing, really, it's just a shame this happened to him. It seems like such a waste. I know he's a good person deep down, and he's letting himself be ruined by the Dark Arts and all of that _pureblood_ rubbish."

We sat in silence for a few minutes, looking out the windows as the countryside flew by. I was thinking of my mother, of what a waste her insanity was. A waste of a good mother who did her best by us, a waste of a genius intellect. She had been working for the betterment of wizardkind before the accident, but her own project had ruined her. She had become strange in the last several days before she had attempted to murder me. Strange, and fiercely driven, obsessed, even. Now, whatever it was that she was working on would likely die with her. So much loss… All of it wasted. I began to feel light-headed. My ears were ringing, and the air was getting thinner and colder, closing me in like a blanket of cotton.

"Nimue?"

Lily jerked me out of my reverie. "You okay?"

"Sorry, I guess I'm just tired," I said tonelessly.

Lily was looking at me strangely. "You're pale. Are you sure you're all right?"

"It's nothing." I couldn't help noticing that I said "it's nothing" in exactly the same way Lily had said "it's nothing" earlier, when we were talking about Severus. Lily obviously noticed it, too, because she seemed about to say something else, but then the compartment door slid open again.

A girl with very short blonde hair and high cheekbones walked in and closed the door behind her, throwing herself lazily down onto the seat beside me. She was wearing her black school robes, but they were wrinkled and disheveled, as though they had been balled up and tossed carelessly into her trunk. She grinned at Lily.

"James Potter was looking for you, Lily," she said cheekily.

Lily rolled her eyes, but a slight pink flush was creeping into her cheeks. "What does he want?"

"I don't know the specifics, but the general idea shouldn't be too hard to guess, should it?" The girl with the pixie cut laughed wickedly, and then turned to me. "I haven't seen you before. Meg Piper, Gryffindor."

"Nimue d'Angelis, and I have no idea which House will be mine. I'm sort of a transfer student."

Meg's eyes widened, and she broke out into an even broader grin. "Really? That's fantastic! I hope you're in Gryffindor. The other Houses are all right, except that Slytherin is frankly _evil_, Ravenclaw is pretty much for bookworms and loonies, and Hufflepuff, well…" She paused, winking. "Let's just say they haven't done much to get themselves noticed in a few decades."

Lily was shaking her head. "Meg's just being flippant, Nimue, don't worry. All of the Houses are rather good in their own way."

"Oh come off it, there's kindness and then there's downright _dishonesty_!" Meg laughed, her blue eyes dancing. "You can't deny that Slytherin are a bunch of slimy, lowdown, dirty—"

Lily was starting to look very uncomfortable, but Meg didn't seem to notice. I was sure she must be thinking of Severus, and hastily interrupted. "Er, Meg, I was wondering, do siblings usually get Sorted into the same Houses?"

Meg switched to the new subject as smoothly as if she had begun it herself. "I dunno, most of the time, I suppose so. My family were all Gryffindors, as far back as I can remember. You get oddballs, though. Sirius Black, for example. He comes from a long line of Slytherins—old pureblood family, you know—but he's in Gryffindor. I imagine it drives his family mad," she added with an air of satisfaction.

We spent the rest of the train ride talking about the other sixth years, what we'd like to eat at the feast, and which House my brothers and I might be in. By the end of it, I knew that there were four sixth year Gryffindor boys—James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew—and four girls—Lily, Meg, Allegra Bianchi, and Portia Wright, both of whom stopped to say hello to them on their way to another compartment. I recognized Portia as the beautiful black girl from the platform, and sure enough, a snow white cat was perched on her shoulder. Allegra was very short and stout, and she was Portia's best friend.

It was dark when the train finally ground to a halt, and my insides began to squirm with something much more than hunger. Lily grinned at me. "This is it," she said excitedly. "Don't be nervous. You're going to love it! When Hagrid—you can't miss him, believe me—calls for the first years, just follow him. You'll be Sorted with them in the Great Hall. I'll see you there!"

"You'll be in Gryffindor, by the way," Meg put in, following Lily out onto the platform. "Just to let you know."

I tried to answer, but my words seemed to have gotten stuck in my throat. I smiled and waved, instead, feeling more nervous than ever at Meg's expectation. I caught sight of Sol and Sam over the heads of the other students and hurried to join them. As I moved out into the hall, however, I collided painfully with someone for the second time, someone a good deal more solid than Lily.

"Oh! I'm sorry!" I gasped, overbalanced, but a hand closed over my wrist and steadied me. The hand belonged to a boy with dark hair that fell into his eyes in a very handsome sort of way, and I felt my face growing hot with embarrassment.

"All right, there, er…?"

"Nimue," I said breathlessly.

"Sirius Black," he replied with a nod. "I don't think I've seen you, before…."

"No, I'm painfully new. That's the second time today I've run into someone, you know. If I had known it was this easy to meet people, I'd've started trying to knock them down the moment I got onto Platform 9 ¾." _Why can't I just shut up?_

"FIRS' YEARS! FIRS' YEARS THIS WAY!"

"That's my call. It was nice to meet you!" I hurried away from Sirius, grateful for the chance to escape before I could embarrass myself further. I stepped onto the platform and found Sol and Sam again, standing with a group of frightened first years around the biggest man I had ever seen. He had wild dark hair and a tangled beard, and he was twice as tall as Sol, who was very tall, himself. In fact, I thought, amazed, this man could only be a half-giant.

"All righ', there, you three?" he called, looking down at us. "Follow me an' the other firs' years. Yeh'll get yer first look at the castle, don' want ter miss that!"

"Are you Rubeus Hagrid?" Sol asked, watching him shrewdly. Obviously, he had come to the same conclusion I had about his heritage, and like me, he was deeply curious.

"Yeah, tha's righ'. Keeper o' Keys and Grounds. Come on, this way, keep up, now! No more 'n four to a boat."

Hagrid led us to an enormous lake, smooth as dark glass, and we climbed awkwardly into little wooden boats. Sol and I sat with Sam and the girl with ringlets, and Hagrid took up an entire boat by himself. "Righ', everyone in? Forward!"

The boats glided noiselessly over the lake, a light breeze ruffling everyone's hair. Sol was grinning eagerly, leaning forward as though he thought he could get there faster that way. Sam was whispering to the first year beside him.

"I heard there's a giant squid in there," he said, pointing at the inky black water.

The girl gave a small squeak of fear and hastily took her hand out of the spray from the boat.

The great castle was getting closer, and several people let out loud cries of, "Oooo!" It was beautiful. It sat perched atop a mountain on the other side of the lake, its hundreds of gleaming windows twinkling invitingly in the darkness. I could hear owls hooting to one another in the distance, possibly from one of the castle's enormous stone towers.

"Duck!" Hagrid warned them, but he was the only one who had to as we sailed under a curtain of ivy hanging over a hidden passage in the cliffside. The boats were now traveling through a tunnel of some sort, and the murmurs of the first years echoed off the walls. Several people gave loud whoops and screams just to hear them magnified, and soon dissolved into giggles. Then the boats were bumping up against a stone landing, and we were climbing out of them following Hagrid up a slippery passageway onto the front green, and before I knew it, we were standing before a massive, handsome oak door. Hagrid lifted his arm and knocked.


	4. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs

Chapter Three

Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs

The door opened with a creak, and a witch in robes of emerald green greeted us. She was perhaps sixty years old, and she wore her soft grey hair in an elaborate braid that I thought must be even longer than mine when loose. It was obvious that the witch had been a great beauty when she was younger, and she looked at us all with a small smile. "Good evening. Thank you, Hagrid. I trust you are well?"

"Very well, thanks, Professor Phillida," Hagrid replied, beaming. "I'll leave 'em with you, then. Good luck!" he called to us, waving as he went inside.

Professor Phillida led us through a cavernous entrance hall lit with torches and into a smaller room near the Great Hall. I could hear the sounds of the other students coming from the open door, and thought of Lily and Meg. I was now beginning fervently to hope that I was Sorted into Gryffindor. Sam shivered with anticipation beside me, and I couldn't help grinning—a bit madly—myself.

"I am Professor Viola Phillida, deputy Headmistress of the school and Head of Gryffindor House. If you will please form a line, we will be entering the Great Hall momentarily. When I call your name, you will simply place the Sorting Hat on your head, and it will Sort you. There's no need to be nervous," she said with another of her small smiles. "Despite what your older siblings may have told you, there is no contest of skill, and there is absolutely no pain involved. The Hat does all the work."

Several of the first years relaxed at once, clearly relieved. Immediately, I liked Professor Phillida, and wondered what it was she taught. I looked at Sol, and he grinned back at me. "We're going to be _miles_ ahead of everyone else," he whispered feverishly. "A girl on the train told me no one else got all Outstandings on their O.W.L.s last year. Apparently a boy called James Potter came close, but he got two Es."

But I didn't care about O.W.L.s just then. Professor Phillida was leading us through a door and into the Great Hall. I drew in a long breath as I gazed around me in wonder. The ceiling appeared to have been bewitched; instead of stone arches, a night sky shot with stars shone down on us all, and hundreds of floating candles glittered in the air above several long tables. There were hangings for each House—scarlet and gold, green and silver, yellow and black, bronze and blue, and above the teachers table, a tapestry depicting the Hogwarts crest of lion, snake, badger, and eagle. I looked around for Lily and Meg at the Gryffindor table and found them waving at me and grinning. I waved back, feeling lighter. The boy from the train, Sirius Black, was there, too, watching me curiously beside his friends. I smiled at him and quickly looked away. The last thing I needed was to get nervous again.

Many people were now starting to stare at us, wondering aloud to the people next to them about the older twins standing with the first years. I tried to ignore them, but it was becoming more difficult. Some of them were standing up to get a better look. Fortunately, silence fell almost immediately as one of the standing teachers raised his hands. He was very tall and thin, with a long, silver beard, a crooked nose, and bright blue eyes behind half-moon spectacles. I knew instantly that this was Albus Dumbledore; I had at least five of his chocolate frog cards at home.

"I will beg your attention, please, for only a few moments before we begin," he said, his eyes twinkling. "As many of you seem to have noticed, we have the great pleasure of two additions to our sixth year class. Until now, Nimue and Solomon d'Angelis have been under the tutelage of one of the most able witches of our age, and I hope you will welcome them with the same enthusiasm you have come to show all of our new students. Let the Sorting begin!"

Professor Phillida placed an old, extremely battered-looking hat on a stool at the front of the Hall. I watched in surprise as a tear like a mouth opened near the brim, and the hat began to sing.

"_Oh, you may not feel witty,_

_ambitious, brave, or strong,_

_but I can make you ready, _

_for I've never yet been wrong._

_I'll look inside your heads,_

_and see where you should go,_

_for I can see the sides of you_

_that even you don't know!_

_Perhaps in Gryffindor you'll use_

_the sterner stuff of which you're made,_

_the strength of heart and chivalry_

_that Godric once displayed._

_In Ravenclaw, Rowena's House,_

_the thinkers will all find_

_a haven for the intellect, _

_a playground for the mind._

_The Hufflepuffs that Helga loved_

_are steady and forthright,_

_and everyone who wants to learn_

_is welcome in her sight._

_Or else in clever Slytherin_

_the friends of Salazar_

_will aid your high ambition _

_to be the best by far._

_So try me on, don't be afraid,_

_and listen while I speak._

_I'll help you go where you belong_

_and grant you what you seek!_

Everyone clapped loudly. I had never seen anything like the Hat, and could not wait to put it on. Professor Phillida unrolled a long sheet of parchment, cleared her throat, and called, "Atkins, Hazel!"

The girl with ringlets who had been nervously whispering to Sam jumped, startled, and appeared to be restraining herself from running on her way to the stool. She sat down and put on the Hat, which covered her face all the way down to her nose. The Hat stretched its mouth wide and shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!" Applause erupted from the Gryffindor table, and Hazel really did run to it, then. They received her with claps on the back and handshakes all around.

"Bellows, Timothy!"

A very tiny boy with untidy brown hair nearly fell off the stool when the Hat bellowed, "HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Bland, George!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Carson, Robin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Coelho, Magdalena!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Crichton, Virgil!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"d'Angelis, Nimue!"

My stomach did a somersault, and the hall was suddenly very quiet. A low buzzing from the tables began to rise, and several people said, "Shhh!" I picked up the Hat, conscious of all the pair of eyes on my face, and put it on. It fit me almost perfectly. I closed my eyes to avoid having to look at the people in front of me, and waited.

"My, my," said a quiet voice in my ear, or perhaps in my head. "You're much further along than the others, aren't you? I remember Sorting your parents, and your grandparents, too. They did Ravenclaw very proud. Now, what have we got here? You're every bit the brain your family have been, I see. Ah. Well, well, how very surprising…"

I held my breath, wondering what the Hat was thinking.

"Simply this, Miss d'Angelis—I believe we'll have to break family tradition and put you in…

"GRYFFINDOR!"

A storm of clapping nearly deafened me, and I took off the Hat, dazed, and slid into a seat beside Lily Evans, who beamed at me. "I knew you'd be in Gryffindor!" she shouted over the applause. "I just knew it!"

"Wicked!" cried Meg Piper, leaning over the table to hug me and knocking her goblet over.

"Thanks!" I said, overcome with relief. "Look, it's my brothers, next!"

"d'Angelis, Samson!" called Professor Phillida.

Sam shot a fearful look toward her and gingerly put the Hat on his head. There was a beat, and then the Hat shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!" again. I whistled and clapped loudly with the rest as Sam, looking giddy with happiness, sat down beside Hazel Atkins. "Good one, Sam!" I yelled, and he grinned.

"d'Angelis, Solomon!"

"Ooo, your brother is really good-looking!" Meg murmured, staring after him.

Lily was looking at him appreciatively, too. "Yeah, wow, you look really alike!"

"We're twins," I whispered. Next to Meg, a boy with untidy black hair and glasses glanced at Lily incredulously and then glared at Sol. I leaned over and lowered my voice so that it was almost inaudible. "So that's James Potter, isn't it?"

Lily nodded, suppressing a smile. However, James Potter looked a great deal less grumpy when the Hat shouted, "RAVENCLAW!" almost before it had touched Sol's head. He muttered something to Sirius Black, who smirked. On Sirius' other side sat two more sixth year boys, obviously Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew, although I wasn't sure which could be which. One of them had light brown hair and looked rather ill, and the heavyset boy at the end was craning his neck toward Sirius and James as though straining to be a part of their conversation.

The Sorting continued for a while longer with applause from all of the tables, until, after "Yaved, Delia," ("SLYTHERIN!"), Professor Phillida rolled up her parchment and took a seat beside Dumbledore. The Headmaster himself stood once more, and said simply, "You've waited long enough, and I shall not ask you to wait any longer. Tuck in!"

Suddenly, the golden platters were filled with so much food that the tables groaned under their weight. My appetite had always been formidable, and I took a bit of everything on my plate and began to eat. Lily pointed out the teachers one by one between bites of roast chicken.

"That's Professor McGonagall, at the end," she said, indicating a young, severe-looking witch with sleek black hair. "She teaches Transfiguration. She's very, _very_ good—she's an Animagus. And there's Professor Slughorn, Head of Slytherin and Potions teacher. Professor Flitwick teaches Charms and Heads Ravenclaw, Professor Sprout is the Hufflepuff Head and teaches Herbology, and Professor Phillida does Defense Against the Dark Arts. She's our Head of House, and she's wonderful."

"She seemed like it," I agreed, nodding as I cut up my steak. "When we were all waiting to be Sorted, she was very reassuring."

The food vanished, replaced by a sumptuous selection of desserts. I was so full that I felt I could hardly eat another bite, but took a small slice of strawberry pie anyway.

"Hey," Lily said suddenly, catching James' eye. "There should be openings on the Quidditch team this year, shouldn't there? Molly, Kevin, and Corbin graduated."

James' fork missed his mouth, and a bit of treacle tart fell into his lap. "Yeah, why? Are you thinking of trying out, Evans?"

"No, but Nimue plays Quidditch." She nudged me with her elbow, and I nearly choked on a strawberry. "What do you reckon? Potter's the Captain. You should try out!"

To my immense discomfort, all four of the sixth year boys were now watching us. James looked me over appraisingly, his hand on his chin. "Well, we've lost two of our Chasers and our Keeper. How are you with a Quaffle?"

"She's really good," Sam put in from a few seats down. "We played all the time, and all we really had was a Quaffle and one Bludger, anyway, with three of us."

"We took turns being Keeper, and we just had to dodge the Bludger," I said, a little embarrassed.

"Modesty, Prongs," Sirius remarked with a knowing smile that made him even more handsome. "Watch her. A _true_ master never gloats."

James shot him a mock dirty look, and the round boy at the end howled with what I thought must be a bit more laughter than the occasion merited. No one else seemed to have noticed, though, and I assumed this was normal behavior for him. Sirius waited patiently for him to stop, and then continued.

"By the way, we never really properly introduced ourselves. This is James Potter, as you probably know by now, and this is Remus Lupin," he said, grasping the shoulder of the sickly-looking boy beside him, who, I now noticed, was wearing a Prefect badge like Lily's. "He's the good boy. He at least _tries_ to keep us in line. And that's Peter Pettigrew, but he also answers to Wormtail."

"Right," Lily sniggered. "They have these silly nicknames for each other. Sirius is Padfoot."

"Want to know what nickname we have for you?" James asked sweetly.

Lily stuck her tongue out at him.

"It's nice to meet you, Nimue," Remus said, smiling nervously. I didn't know very much about people, but I did know what it was to feel out of place, and I recognized it in Remus immediately. There was a faint slump in his shoulders, and he looked very tired and ill at ease, in stark contrast with his friends.

"Don't mind Moony, he's always a little off-color around the start of term," James assured me, and for some reason, Remus looked stricken. I could have sworn I saw Sirius kick James under the table.

"Yes," Remus said loudly. "Because of the, er, _homework_."

"That would be a bit more convincing if you didn't have that P on your chest, mate. _He really just misses his mum_," said Sirius in a stage whisper.

Everyone laughed, even Remus, and soon the desserts, too, had disappeared from our plates. Professor Dumbledore stood up, and the Hall fell silent at once. "To our old and new students alike, welcome! While we are all digesting, I have a few start-of-term announcements and reminders. Mr. Filch has asked me to tell you that he has posted an updated list of banned items on his office door. I believe it has been expanded to include twenty-six new Zonko's products. Also, as always, the Forbidden Forest on the school grounds is, of course, forbidden." He smiled and glanced at the Gryffindor table. Sirius and James hastily assumed looks of blank curiosity. "Students in the third year and above who have permission from a parent or guardian may visit the village of Hogsmeade on designated weekends beginning in October. And now, I believe we are all sufficiently befuddled by food and drink, and we can enjoy a good night's sleep."

There was a great deal of scraping and chatter and the students filed out of the Great Hall. Lily and Remus led the rest of us through the castle, up winding staircases and through long corridors until at last we came to a halt in front of a portrait of a very large woman in a pink dress. She looked rather like a meringue, I thought.

"Password?" prompted the Fat Lady.

"Flibbertigibbet," Remus answered, and the portrait swung open to reveal a hole in the wall. I climbed through after Meg, and immediately echoed the first years' sigh of appreciation. The Gryffindor Common Room was warm and cheerful, filled with squashy arm chairs. Two staircases led up to the dormitories, and someone had lit a fire in the hearth.

James gave a great yawn and stretched his arms, pretending not to notice that he had put one of them around Lily's shoulders. "Well, I'm off to bed. Want to come, Evans?"

"In your dreams, maybe," she said acidly, and marched up to her dormitory.

"A little respect'll go a long way," Meg chided him. "She _does_ like you, you know."

"Then why won't she go out with me?" James was staring after Lily, looking utterly nonplussed.

Meg threw her head back and laughed. "Are you really that thick? Honestly, boys are so impossible I don't know why we even bother. She likes you, James, she just doesn't know it quite yet." She, too, went up the stairs, still laughing merrily.

"That girl," James said, shaking his head, "is completely mental."

"That girl," Sirius corrected him, "is a lot smarter than we give her credit for. Let's go to bed. G'night, Nimue."

"Good night," I said to all of them. We parted ways at the staircases, and I climbed mine until I came to a door marked, "Sixth Years." Inside were five four-poster beds with rich red curtains. I sat down on the empty bed between the ones Meg and Lily had chosen and changed into my nightgown. Meg seemed to have fallen asleep immediately with all of her clothes on. I finished brushing out the tangles out of my long hair and then carefully removed Meg's shoes.

"She's like that after a feast," Lily murmured from her bed. "In fact, she's like that most nights. Sometimes I wonder about her."

"She seems very unrestrained. Maybe she just doesn't worry about the small things," I said thoughtfully. "She knows what's important, and nothing else really matters."

Lily looked at me for a long moment. "Yeah, maybe she does. She worries me, though. She literally doesn't take anything seriously."

"Maybe we should all take a leaf from her book, then. I've never seen anyone sleep so soundly. I'd like to sleep like that, wouldn't you?" I smiled and lay down without pulling the curtains closed.

"Nimue?"

"Yes?"

"I'm glad you came here."

I rolled over and hugged my pillow to my chest, feeling happier than I had ever been in my life. "So am I."


	5. Eagles and Weasels

Chapter Four

Eagles and Weasels

Over breakfast the next morning, Professor Phillida came around to approve our new N.E.W.T. class schedules. When she got to me, she smiled warmly. "Well, Miss d'Angelis, I understand you want to be an Auror, and as you've managed Os on every O.W.L."—James' jaw dropped, and Sirius did a double-take—"you can continue with anything you like."

I signed up for Transfiguration, Potions, Herbology, Charms, History of Magic, Care of Magical Creatures, and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Professor Phillida handed me my schedule and winked, then bent over Peter Pettigrew's shoulder.

"Mr. Pettigrew, I'm afraid you won't be able to continue with Transfiguration, but I'll be very pleased to see you back in Defense Against the Dark Arts this year."

"Oh no… Isn't there any way I can take it, Professor?"

"I'm sorry, but Professor McGonagall only accepts students who have an E or above for her advanced Transfiguration class."

"But what if I—"

"There's nothing that can be done," Professor Phillida said firmly. "I truly am sorry, Mr. Pettigrew, but those are the facts. Without a good grasp of the subject matter, these classes can be dangerous. But if you look here, you'll see that you can still take Care of Magical Creatures, Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, and Charms. You did well on all of those."

Peter looked positively miserable as Professor Phillida gave him his schedule. I opened my mouth to say something comforting, but Meg elbowed me in the ribs. "Don't bother. He doesn't care about the classes, he just wants to be near James, Sirius, and Remus," she muttered. "He follows them _everywhere_."

"Shouldn't he? He is their friend, isn't he?" I whispered.

"I think it's more that they let him hang around them. I'm not sure what they see in him. He's a shifty, whining suck-up with no proper sense of honor. How he got into Gryffindor, I'll never know. I suppose he asked the Hat to put him there."

"We've got double Potions first thing," Lily said, looking pleased as she examined everyone's schedules. "Oh, but it's with the Slytherins…"

"Wonderful." James jabbed his cereal with his spoon. "What a way to start the morning."

"Cheer up, Prongs," Sirius said bracingly. "Snivellus will be there, and you know how he's missed us this summer."

"Don't call him that," Lily snapped. "I wish you two would leave him alone."

"It would make things more peaceful," Remus said, his eyes still on his own schedule. He was looking, if it was possible, even paler than he had yesterday. "We've got Care of Magical Creatures with the Slytherins, too, but we'll have Herbology and Charms with the Ravenclaws. We'll get to see your brother, Nimue."

"Yeah...." I wasn't sure whether to grin or grimace at the thought of Sol in a classroom setting, and I think my face must have gotten caught somewhere in between, because Remus was looking at me quizzically.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing's wrong," I said hastily. "Sol's just very competitive. It'll be interesting to see what he does."

The Potions classroom was deep in the bowels of the castle dungeons. The Gryffindors—with the exception of Meg Piper, who had not achieved a high enough O.W.L to continue—and Slytherins filed in and took their seats, talking quietly amongst themselves as we stood up our cauldrons and took out our copies of _Advanced Potion-Making _by Libatius Borage. Professor Slughorn, an exceedingly portly man with gratuitous amounts of moustache, stood at the front of the room, surveying us all and looking very much like an affectionate uncle. When he spotted Lily, his wide face split into a grin.

"Ah, Miss Evans! So good to see you, m'dear. And Mr. Snape! You're going to _love_ today's lesson." He winked at them, and Lily beamed, though Severus looked as sour as ever.

"Lily and Snape are star potioneers," Sirius whispered in my ear. "Sluggy'll be handing them adoption papers any day, now."

"And speaking of which," Slughorn continued in his booming, jovial voice, "who can tell me what Amortentia is?"

Lily and I both raised our hands, but Severus muttered, "It's the most potent love potion there is."

"Quite right, m'boy. Take five points for Slytherin. And who can tell me at least one way of recognizing it?"

This time Lily didn't wait to be called on. "Sir, its coloration is like mother-of-pearl, and it gives off very distinctive swirls of steam."

Slughorn was delighted. "Very good, indeed! That's two answers, so we'll make it ten points for Gryffindor, shall we? Ah, yes, Miss d'Angelis?"

"It also smells differently to each person who breathes its fumes, sir. The scent is based on whatever attracts them."

"Well done! Five more points to Gryffindor. I wonder, are you in any way related to the Lady Titania Grey-d'Angelis, the great-great-great-great….well, great granddaughter of Merlin? She pioneered modern study on his theories of Wild Magic."

I frowned. This was the last thing I had wanted everyone to know on my first day, and certainly not something I wanted to talk about. "She's my mother, sir."

Slughorn's eyes widened with his grin. "Is she, _really_? Ahhh, yes, Nimue…you must be named for Merlin's bride."

"Yes, sir."

"You've just signed your own invitation to the Slug Club," Lily murmured, smiling wryly. "In this case, I think he'll use a solid gold envelope. Why didn't you tell me your family was famous?"

"Er, well…it's a very uncomfortable situation," I replied slowly. "I'll…I'll explain later."

Meanwhile, Slughorn was dividing us into teams of two. He was going down the line and placing people together at will, regardless of House, and had now reached our side of the room. "Miss Greenley—" He indicated a stunningly pretty Slytherin girl. "—can partner Mr. Potter. Mr. Pettigrew, you may work with Mr. Lupin. Mr. Black will be with our lovely Miss d'Angelis," he gave me a huge wink. "Which leaves…Miss Evans and Mr. Snape, our stars! I look forward to seeing all of your potions, and I daresay if they're prepared correctly, it should be enjoyable for everyone! The instructions are in your books on page 92. Begin!"

Lily and Severus looked very uncomfortable to be working together. Lily, in fact, was shooting rather ugly looks over her shoulder at the beautiful Slytherin who had been paired with James. But the pretty Slytherinwas looking positively venomous as she glared hard at _me_. I had time to be taken aback before Sirius muttered, "Don't worry about her. Scarlett just doesn't like you because you're pretty."

"Cheers, Sirius," I laughed, growing very hot in the face. Now that I had begun to get over the fact that he was painfully handsome, things were getting easier. Perhaps it was because of his easy manner and laid back charm, but I felt much more relaxed around Sirius Black than around any of the others, with the possible exception of Lily. "But she wasn't looking at me at all until I sat down with you. I think there's jealousy of a different kind at work, here."

Sirius eyed Scarlett for a moment and then quirked an eyebrow, propping his open book against our cauldron. "Lord, I hope not. She wouldn't be above slipping a bit of Amortentia into a bloke's porridge. She's twice as ugly on the inside as she is beautiful on the outside. Anyway, shall we?"

I spent much of the beginning of the lesson talking with Sirius, who was, it turned out, a very brilliant boy in many ways. With the exception of Potions—in which Lily and Severus held top marks—Sirius and James were at the top of their class in every subject.

"Although now," Sirius said with a smirk, "with your Outstandings in everything, you're probably going to show us up. Could you pass the lilac honey? Thanks. So, Nimue, no one's asked yet, have they?"

My insides prickled unpleasantly. He was going to ask me about my mother's side of the family. Well, thanks to Slughorn, it was bound to come up sooner or later. "Ask me what?"

"What's it like being homeschooled?"

Feeling surprised and pleased that he had asked something less uncomfortable, I smiled. "Intense. We learned things at a very fast pace, and we didn't really have time for much else. I much prefer being here, in this school, with all of you. It's like a dream."

"And your family? What are they like?" He was watching me closely out of the corner of his eye as he crushed our trellisroot pods with the flat side of his knife.

I added five of the required ten drops of pomegranate juice before answering. "My father is a good man. He's a little absent sometimes, but he's really brilliant. My brother Solomon is a lot like him, although he has our mother's passion, and that makes him very good at everything he does. Samson, my younger brother," I said with a softened look, "is very kind and very brave. A true Gryffindor, I think. My family have been Ravenclaws for generations, so it was a surprise for both of us to get Sorted into Gryffindor—a very pleasant one. What's your family like?"

Sirius gave a short laugh that sounded like a bark. "Slytherins, all of them, as far back as the family tree goes. Mind you," he added darkly, "they've removed anyone who wasn't. It won't be long until my name is burned off the tapestry, too."

"Are you leaving them?" I asked shrewdly.

"Yeah," he said, looking taken aback. "Yeah, I already did, actually. I'd had enough."

"Where did you go?"

"James' parents took me in. They've always been more like my real family, anyway. Soon I'll be of age, and I can start my own life."

"What do you think you'd like to do with your life?" I asked curiously.

"I'm not really sure, to be honest," he said. "But I'll be happy as long as I'm far away from the '_Most Ancient and Noble House of Black_.'"

We were both silent for a while as we added the rest of the ingredients to the Amortentia potion and allowed them to stew. Professor Slughorn was walking along the rows, nodding approvingly here and there and muttering helpful hints to those who were struggling. When he reached Lily and Severus, he gave a huge, appreciative sniff.

"Ahhhh, wonderful, wonderful! Is that cinnamon I smell? Very daring! That would tend to strengthen the solution and lengthen its hold. Of course, I would expect no less from my star students, no less, indeed." He winked at them, and then turned to the rest of the class. "You should all have finished adding your ingredients by now. These will all need to stew for one full month. You will need to add the night-blooming jasmine and moonlily nectar just before taking it off the heat, so we'll be meeting again tonight at nine o'clock for an outdoor excursion! And so… Until tonight!"

"Good thing we'll have a bit of a lie-in tomorrow," Sirius said to the rest of us as we packed their things away. "We have a free period until Herbology with Sprout and the Ravenclaws. Then it's lunch, and then Care of Magical Creatures. The next day is Charms in the morning, History of Magic in the evening. Look at how many free periods we'll have!"

"To _study,_ Sirius," Remus put in, touching his Prefect badge. "Sorry mate, but you know I'm supposed to at least _try_ to keep you in line, now."

James, having hitherto looked rather grumpy, now broke out into a slightly maniacal grin. "Oh, I'm not wasting it. It'll be perfect for a pre-season warm-up. I haven't been on my new Cleansweep, yet. Besides, I'll need a way to vent the strain of trying to work with Scarlett Greenley. She's mad as a hatter about you, Padfoot. Kept shooting questions at me about you, what you like, what you talk about, everything. I'd watch out."

Peter, who had been, as usual, hanging onto James' every word, now looked rather greedily in Scarlett's direction, where she was tossing her golden hair haughtily over one shoulder. "Why should he? She's gorgeous. Who wouldn't want her?"

"Looks aren't everything," Remus said sagely. "She has a personality like a pit bull, you know."

"Yeah, what did she say about you last year?" Lily said, frowning. "Something about pretending to be sick every few weeks?"

"Yes, she called me a pathetic, whining hypochondriac." He exchanged a strange, knowing look with James and Sirius. "Speaking of which, my mother's ill again. I'm going to see her tonight, so I'll probably miss Professor Slughorn's lesson, but I'll be back in the morning. Peter, can you get the ingredients we're going to need for the potion?"

"But aren't we coming—?"

Remus cut him off sharply. "You can't skive off because of me. Besides, someone's got to get our ingredients."

Peter looked as though he had deflated.

Transfiguration was taught by a tall, severe witch with smooth black hair and spectacles. Peter had been unable to continue with her class, and so he left us at the door with a thoroughly forlorn wave. To my relief, the lesson went extremely well for me; I succeeded in turning my weasel into an eagle on the very first try. Sirius and James, who were famously good at Transfiguration, also managed to do it. Professor McGonagall awarded the three of us ten points each for Gryffindor and exemption from the day's homework.

"There's an American saying," Meg said pleasantly as we walked to Defense Against the Dark Arts. "Eagles may soar, but weasels never get sucked into jet engines."

Lily, being Muggleborn and quite familiar with jets, snorted with laughter, but James, Sirius, and I stared at Meg as though she had suddenly sprouted antlers.

"Does that really happen?" I asked, horrified.

"Occasionally, yes. Let that be a lesson to you high-flyers." Meg winked cheekily at them. She had somehow given her weasel a strange sort of beak, and it had galloped away from her to peck madly at the window. She, however, had merely smiled in a "the-joke's-on-me" sort of way as Professor McGonagall caught and righted the poor, squirming creature. Meg had said, laughing, that she knew she was no great shakes at Transfiguration, and she had not looked sorry about it or jealous of her friends in any way. To her, it was simply the way things were. My respect for her increased even more.

Because the truth was, I longed to feel the kind of relaxed acceptance of things that Meg displayed. The closest I ever felt to it was when I was talking with Sirius. Only then could my mind let go of obsessive thoughts about my family, about my mother's illness and my father's withdrawal from us all. Only then could I stop worrying about Sam and Sol. I glanced over at him. He was still shaking his head and smiling bemusedly over Meg's strange joke, his thick dark hair falling into his eyes as he looked at the floor.

"You're wondering if he thinks you're his friend," Meg said in a low voice so that only the Lily and I could hear. It wasn't a question, and I gave a great start. "Don't be silly. He does, Nimue."

I stared at Meg in disbelief. "How did you know—was it that obvious?"

"Well, e_verything_ is obvious. Obviously."

"You sound a bit like Professor Dumbledore sometimes, Meg," Lily said fondly. "Although with more cheek."

"Oh, good, Nimue will be able to tell him you said so, Lil." Meg suddenly rummaged inside her messenger bag and fished out a piece of parchment. "Here," she said, handing it to me. "I forgot to give this to you before Transfiguration."

Unrolling it, I read as we walked. A looping, graceful hand had penned it.

**Dear Miss d'Angelis**,

**It would give me great pleasure to **

**receive you and your brothers in **

**my office at 8:00 this evening.**

**I should mention that I have **

**a special fondness for lemondrops.**

It was signed…

"Albus Dumbledore."


End file.
